


Thirty and flirty and thriving!

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 13 Going On 30 Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jonsa Gift Exchange, Magic, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-01 22:18:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15783234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: “I don’t want to talk to you!” she snapped. “I hate being thirteen and unpopular!”“They aren’t worth it Sansa, honestly!”Sansa ignored him. “I want to be thirty!”“Come out Sansa, please!”“I want to be thirty!” she repeated, her back hitting the shelf behind her. She felt the dust falling off the dolls house and tickling her neck but she was too angry and upset to brush it off. “I want to be thirty and flirty and thriving! Thirty and flirty and thriving!”She seemed to chant the words forever before her emotions appeared to drain her and everything went black.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late entry to the Jonsa gift exchange. Its hard to stay motivated on your phone *sigh*  
> Anyway, hope giftee likes it :)

“Urgh, I hate school photos!” Jon mumbled beside her, glaring up at the school building.

“Same,” Sansa chimed, fumbling in her bag for her pocket mirror. “Thirteen really is unlucky!”

“Hardly,” Jon scoffed, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Your photo will come out great as always.”

“You have to say that because you’re my best friend,” she replied, still eyeing her reflection critically.

Jon shrugged, his shy smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh god, its Randa!” Sansa gasped suddenly, throwing her mirror into her bag and reaching up to flatten her hair nervously. She grabbed Jon’s shoulders. “What do I do?”

Jon scrunched up his nose as he watched Myranda Royce and her friends making their way towards them. “Tell them to fuck off.”

“Jon!”

“Hey Red,” Myranda said as she sidled up to Sansa. She let her eyes roam slowly over Jon’s body, dropping over the length of him and then back up. “Snow.”

Jon’s lips twitched with a mock smile before he looked to Sansa. “I’ll see you in class.”

“Aw, look at the knight,” Myranda teased, causing her girls to titter behind her. “Sansa is a big girl, Johnny boy.”

“Whatever,” Jon responded, giving Sansa one last smile before moving away.

“So, I was speaking to Harry,” Myranda commented, stepping next to Sansa and linking their arms together.

Sansa pressed her lips together to try and hide her nervous smile, the blush already burning her cheeks at the sound of Harry’s name. Myranda smirked knowingly.

“He really wanted to come to your party,” she continued, idly looking at her nails as they started to walk into the school.

“Really?” Sansa gasped, unable to hide her glee any longer. Myranda nodded but the sad smile on her lips made Sansa pause.

“Yeah. But unfortunately, we have to get our group report proposal in so we can’t make it anymore. And Harry was coming to help us so he won’t make it either. I am so sorry!”

She gave Sansa a pat on the hand and a sympathetic smile before she started to retreat. Desperate to have Harry at her house, to be near him, Sansa reached out and clasped Myranda’s hand.

“I can write your report. I don’t mind,” she insisted.

She would do anything for the chance to have Harold Hardying notice her! He was the most popular boy in the school. And, with his sandy blonde hair and dimples when he smiled, he had struck Sansa’s heart hard. His was the name Sansa always wrote in her diary beside hers and decorated with little love hearts.

“Great!” Myranda beamed, blowing her a kiss. “See you tonight then!”

“Bye!” Sansa called out excitedly, smiling giddily at the other girls walked past them.

She could barely contain her smile as she headed into the English class and took her seat. She couldn’t wait to tell Jon about it. She was finally going to become a Falcon, part of the most popular group in her year.

And Harry was going to be in her house!

The day passed in a blur, her excitement meaning that not a single thing stayed in her head from her lessons. And when the bell rang, she bolted so fast from her chair, she had to go back and grab her notebook, which she had left in her haste.

Jon was waiting in their usual spot by the gates, his eyes narrowed on Myranda and her group of giggling girls. His scowl lifted when he saw her though and he raised his hand in a small wave.

She gave him no warning as she opened her arms and flung herself at him. He barely managed to react in time, stumbling backwards at the force of her colliding with him.

“I’m going to be a Falcon!” she squealed.

“Urgh, why would you want to be?” he responded, setting her back down. Sansa huffed and hit his shoulder in annoyance.

“Because they are the most popular people in school!” she replied slowly, as though he were an idiot. Jon merely shook his head as they headed down the path towards their homes.

“You’re way better than any of them,” he said after a moment of silence. “Why do you want to be a clone when you are way more interesting and original?”

“I don’t want to be interesting and original,” she sighed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I want to be liked and popular!”

Jon shrugged, aware there was no point in continuing the argument. He grabbed her shoulder, pulling her tight against him before raising his camera for a photo. Sansa rolled her eyes but she couldn't help her smile. Jon always took amazing photographs.

He reached into his pocket and held out the packet of lemon drop sweets he had bought.

“Want a lemon drop?”

“Sweets are for kids,” she responded even though she couldn’t help but smile affectionately at the gesture.

“We _are_ kids Sansa!” Jon replied with a laugh, popping a sweet in his mouth. “You’re only thirteen!”

“And I hate it already!” she sighed. She raised her hand as she crossed the lawn to her front door. “Goodnight, goodnight!” she called over her shoulder.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow that I will say goodnight til it be morrow!” he returned.

Sansa grinned at him again as she opened the front door. She loved that Jon was a Shakespeare dork like herself. And he was willing to finish even the sappiest quotes with her, which were always her favourite ones.

The house was empty, much to her satisfaction. Her parents were at work and Robb was at a study group to prepare for his upcoming exams. Arya had her gymnastics class after school, Bran was going to his friend Meera’s house for a sleepover and Rickon was at Grandpa Tully’s all weekend.

She raced up to her room to get ready for her birthday party.

***

“There’s my darling girl!” Catelyn declared, tossing the door to her bedroom open.

Sansa gasped, dropping the blusher onto the dressing table in her shock before anger burned through her and she glared at her mother. Her scowl moved to her father as he appeared behind his wife with a puzzled look.

“Make up?” he asked, wrinkling his nose at the containers on her table. “You don’t need that stuff Sansa.”

“I’m thirteen!” she snapped, annoyed at his overprotectiveness. Catelyn clucked her tongue.

“Honey,” she said soothingly before casting a meaningful look at Ned. He raised his hands in surrender and moved out of the room.

Her mother guided her to her bed and Sansa resisted the urge to sigh in annoyance. She did however, bat her mother’s hand away when they reached to stroke her hair and then, to Sansa’s mortification poke her flat chest where she had stuffed tissue paper into her A cup bra.

“Mum!” she hissed, curling away.

“Sansa, sweetheart,” Catelyn cooed. “You need to stop worrying about appearances. You are beautiful without all this. And you’ll get breasts when your body is ready.”

“I’m so behind everyone!” Sansa huffed, her eyes flickering to the magazine that lay open on her pillow. She reached for it, smiling at the confident women posing on the page.

“Thirty and flirty and thriving,” she read the title outloud and then turned to her mother. “I want to be thirty.”

“Oh, you will be my darling!” Catelyn laughed. She leaned forward and kissed her temple. “But for now, you are my beautiful, smart thirteen-year-old. Now, I’ll let you get ready for your party.”

***

Jon was of course, first to arrive. Living right next door had a great advantage for when they had plans.

She had just started dancing to the Thriller video on the television when she spotted him coming down the stairs to the basement. Seeing the large box in his hand, she squealed and hurried to meet him at the bottom of the stairs.

“Careful!” he warned as he set the box down.

“What is it?” she asked, dancing around him to eye the box from the other side of the table. Jon laughed.

“Open it!”

She pulled the lid off, peering inside. Her jaw dropped as she saw the Barbie pink dolls house inside, her fingers running over the black tiled roof in awe. Jon grinned at her reaction, reaching in to pull the entire thing out.

Sansa kneeled in front of the table, her eyes darting across each of the rooms that Jon had made into the house. Exactly the way she had always wanted them, from the bright white kitchen with the oak dining table, to the blue coloured bathroom with  a lemon shower curtain hanging up.

“Oh Jon it’s amazing!” she gushed. “You made this? It must have taken you forever!”

“It was nothing,” he assured her, though he seemed interested in the television rather than her. “Of course, it is missing the most important part!” He took out some makeshift pixie dust from his pocket, pouring it over the house and making the roof sparkle. “Wishing dust. Always important.”

“Thank you. This is the best gift ever!” she replied before the bell rang and distracted her.

She squeaked, jumping to her feet and making for the stairs, only to think better of it and double back to grab the dolls house.

“I’m going to put this in here,” she said quickly, shoving the house on the top shelf of the cupboard as the bell continued to ring. “Just to protect it!”

She rushed up the stairs, just managing to intervene as her dad reached for the door handle. She grabbed his shoulders, wedging herself between him and the door.

“Daddy, please don’t embarrass me!” she begged, pushing him away. Ned held up his hands, retreating to the living room as he had previously agreed to stay.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door with her brightest smile to Myranda and her Falcons staring blankly.

“Hi guys, party is in the basement!” she chirped.

With a barely raised brow, Myranda shrugged off her jacket and handed it to Sansa. Her friends followed suit, making her stumble back a little under the weight.

As she turned to put them in the living room, she noticed the car pulling up to the side, Harry’s golden hair glinting in the sunlight.

Sansa flushed as he waved at her from the driver’s seat and she quickly went through to dump the jackets on the sofa before greeting Harry and his friends at the door and leading them down to the basement.

To her horror, Jon had control of the stereo.

Normally, she loved Jon’s weird taste in music. Listening to his wacky funko stuff was one of the few times he appeared to be truly at ease.

But Myranda was staring in blatant disgust at the stereo, her friends all sharing looks of barely disguised awkward amusement. And Harry was sniggering in the corner with his friends as he watched Jon.

If Robb were here, he would flirt with a couple of the girls and chat with the boys about football and such to distract them from the awful music. But he was still at his study group and was going to the cinema later. He had declared that his little sister wouldn’t want her siblings crashing her party.

Although, if Sansa were being honest, Robb was the one sibling she would have allowed. He wouldn’t be rude like Arya with her unfiltered disregard for popularity. Nor would he be annoying like Rickon, who would demand all the attention from the room and likely drive all her guest away. And Bran, well, he would just sit in the corner so there was no point in him coming anyway.

“What is this?” Myranda asked eventually, appearing at Sansa’s side and continuing to turn her lip at where Jon was bopping his head against the beat.

“It’s Jon’s own mix,” Sansa replied, casting a nervous glance at her friend.

Myranda rolled her eyes before crossing the room and pressing stop on the stereo. Jon made a noise of protest, which Myranda ignored as she pressed the eject button and thrust the cd into Jon’s chest with an overly sweet smile.

“You’re a bitch,” Jon stated simply. Myranda blinked in surprise and Sansa’s jaw dropped. She had never heard Jon utter such things before. Myranda seemed to recover in seconds, her lip curling in disgust.

“Freak,” she muttered, returning to her group of friends.

“I’m going to go and put this back then,” Jon said as he approached her. “Will you be alright?”

Myranda snorted to her right. Harry was watching her curiously. And the words blurted out without her thinking.

“I’m a big girl Jon, I don’t need a knight!”

The room erupted in laughter, Harry winked at her. But Jon looked as though she had slapped him and she immediately felt awful. She opened her mouth to apologise but Jon had already walked past her.

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbled as he went upstairs. Sansa bit her lip as she watched him go.

“Hey, I have an idea!” Mranda declared, regaining Sansa’s attention. She reached up to untie the scarf around her neck. “Let’s play seven minutes in heaven.”

“Um…which one is that again?” Sansa asked nervously.

“You go into the closet,” Myranda explained, circling around Sansa and pressing the scarf to her eyes, blocking her sight. “And some lucky guy is going to go in there after you.” The scarf was tied tightly behind Sansa’s head as Myranda set her hands on her shoulder to guide her forward. “And you can do whatever you want for seven minutes.” Sansa heard the closet door open. “And guess who wants to go first?”

“Who?” Sansa replied with a nervous lick of her lips.

“Harry.”

“No!” Sansa gushed, feeling her entire face heat up.

“Yes,” Myranda assured her, gently nudging Sansa forward. “And just so you know, Harry loves going for at least second base.”

Sansa squeaked as she heard the click of the door. She hurriedly tossed the stuffed tissues out of her bra, patting her body nervously for any stray bits. Sliding to the floor, she hugged her knees and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, when she started to wonder where he was, she heard the door open and a smile erupted on her face.

“Finally!” she breathed, holding her hands out in front of her. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

Her breath hitched as she felt his palms press against her own, their fingers curling together. She bit her lip again as she leaned forward.

“Oh, Harry,” she moaned.

“Harry?” Jon’s voice blurted suddenly, causing her to fall backwards and rip the blindfold off.

The basement was empty, everyone was gone except for her and Jon. Humiliation and confusion coursed through her and she turned on him.

“What happened? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” he replied. “They were all leaving when I came back.”

“No! You said something to them, didn’t you?” she cried, stepping back into the closet and pulling the door shut. She clicked the lock, glaring as she heard Jon shake the handle a couple of times.

“Come on Sansa,” he called through the wood. Sansa shook her head, sliding back to the floor as she felt the tears building behind her eyes.

“Go away!” she yelled eventually, pressing her head back against the shelves behind her.

“Sansa.”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” she snapped. “I hate being thirteen and unpopular!”

“They aren’t worth it Sansa, honestly!”

Sansa ignored him. “I want to be thirty!”

“Come out Sansa, please!”

“I want to be thirty!” she repeated, her back hitting the shelf behind her. She felt the dust falling off the dolls house and tickling her neck but she was too angry and upset to brush it off. “I want to be thirty and flirty and thriving! Thirty and flirty and thriving!”

She seemed to chant the words forever before her emotions appeared to drain her and everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

She couldn’t remember leaving the basement and going to bed, but the soft pillows beneath her head told her she must have done so. Or maybe her parents or Robb brought her up to her room.

She groaned as she recalled the events of her party, her eyes squeezing shut tighter in protest. If she didn’t open them and didn’t acknowledge being awake, she could still pretend it was all just a bad dream.

But as she rolled over, she was vaguely aware of the fact that the bed was far too big to be her own. And as she tumbled over the side, she just had time to realise that it wasn’t tucked against her wall either before she landed on the floor with a thump and a grunt.

Ripping the sheet from over her head she let out a huff. But her annoyance was short-lived as she took in her surroundings and realised not only was this not her room, but she didn’t recognise it at all.

The sound of running water caught her attention then and she slowly pushed herself to stand and made her way to the door. But she caught sight of herself in the mirror as she passed, making her squeak, a hand flying to her mouth to cover the sound.

It _should_ have been her in the reflection but it couldn’t be. She was older for sure, at least mid-twenties she would guess. And, to her amused puzzlement, her breasts had seemed to magically appeared overnight.

She groped them over her nightdress, a giggle escaping her before she could stop the sound. These were definitely worth the wait, she figured.

The water was still running, dragging her attention back to her mysterious company and making her return her focus to leaving the room and figuring out what was happening.

She opened the door slowly, peeking out into the corridor towards the sound and what she assumed was the bathroom. Swallowing her fear, she snuck out of the room and pressed herself to the wall as she looked towards the door.

Then, to her horror, the shower switched off and she stood frozen in fear and confusion as a male voice called out through the door.

“Hey babe, you up yet?”

Sansa looked around her as she heard the click of a lock. She grabbed a shoe from the rack by the door and threw it as the door opened to reveal a dark-haired man with a cocky grin.

He dodged her shoe, sending it an amused look before turning back towards her. To her surprise, and annoyance, his smile didn’t even falter as he laughed at her.

“I love it when you’re in a feisty mood sweet cheeks!”

“I’ll not miss again!” she growled, lunging for another shoe. The man merely shrugged, heading into the bedroom she had just vacated.

Thinking better than to follow him, she instead grabbed a jacket from the coatrack and another pair of shoes, pulling them on as quickly as possible.

She stumbled for the door, stopping short at the envelope that lay on the floor, her name written in bold letters, impossible to miss.

Picking up the letter, she frowned in confusion. But hearing the mystery man moving around put her curiosity on hold. She thrust the letter into her coat pocket and threw the garment on before running out of the apartment.

She ran for the elevator, pressing the buttons frantically until the doors opened and she bolted inside, leaning against the wall and taking a deep breath.

“What is going on?” she murmured to herself as the doors opened and she walked briskly from towards the exit.

A black car was pulled up to the kerb as she emerged, a woman standing next to it on the phone and holding two take away cups of coffee. She nodded towards Sansa and murmured something into the phone before opening the car door.

“Sansa, where are you going?” she shouted as Sansa made to walk down the street. “Get in the car.”

“No,” Sansa said quickly, stepping backwards. She knew better than to get in the car with strangers. The woman rolled her eyes.

“Sansa, c’mon. I’m already low on patience today!”

“I’m not getting in the –“ Her rant was cut off as she heard the man from before calling down to her. Looking up, she saw him leaning out of the window, completely topless as he blew her a kiss.

“No kiss goodbye sweet cheeks?” he called.

“Get out of there!” she yelled back, ignoring the woman behind her choking on her coffee. “And stop calling me sweet cheeks you, you…dirty old man!”

With not much other choice, she bolted into the car and slammed the door shut. The woman slid in on the other side, replacing her phone in her bag.

“What happened to you last night?” the woman asked before raking her eyes down Sansa’s form with a brief curl of the lips that seemed oddly familiar to Sansa. “Honey, as your best friend I feel I have to tell you that your fashion sense has seriously declined.”

Sansa clung onto the words, reaching to grasp the woman’s hand. “Are you really my best friend?”

_Where was Jon then?_

“Oh my god, you’re pregnant!”

“No!” Sansa gasped.

“Thank god because I don’t think either of us are mother material right now babe!”

“Okay, look!” Sansa stressed, gripping the woman’s hand tighter. “I woke up this morning in a strange place and a guy I don’t know in the shower!”

The woman laughed, giving her a look of puzzlement as the car pulled to a stop.

“And…and…I’m _this_!” Sansa continued as she scrambled out of the car and trotted after her supposed best friend. “When I’m really thirteen!”

“Sansa!” her friend scoffed. “If you’re going to lie about your age then I’d go with twenty-six. Now!” she turned then, holding her finger up. “Get yourself together.”

“I’m just so confused and –“

“Sansa, repeat after me!” the woman interrupted sternly. “I am Sansa Stark.” She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Sansa sighed in defeat. “I am Sansa Stark.”

“Big time magazine editor for Raven!”

“Big ti…really? Raven?” Sansa gasped. Her friend rolled her hand in a reminder of Sansa’s previous instructions. “Big time magazine editor for Raven!”

“I’m going to walk into that office and not let anybody know that I’m hungover!”

“But I’m not hungover!” Sansa protested but sighed again when her friend fixed her with another stern look. “I’m going to walk into that office and not let anybody know that I’m hungover.”

“And Myranda is the best,” the woman added.

“Randa?” Sansa blurted as she followed her through the revolving doors.

“Urgh, nobody has called me that in years. Myranda now please!”

Sansa laughed in relief. Finally, somebody she knew and had been affected by this strange thing too. Myranda was handling it a lot better though she had to admit.

She was jostled out of her musings when a woman appeared in front of her, holding up two pictures of a model in a maxi, greek style dress, one white and the other black.

“Need a decision!” she chirped, walking backwards as Sansa and Myranda advanced.

“White,” Sansa said instantly, casting a look to Myranda, who gave her a wink and a thumbs up.

“Miss Stark, Oberyn Martell is on the phone and needs a decision now!” another woman piped up, leaning over her desk with an expression like a deer caught in headlights.

“Um, peanut!” she declared. She turned to Myranda and whispered. “M and Ms right?”

Myranda snorted before tossing a comment over her shoulder to the girl. “Street party.”

Sansa followed her through to a large meeting room and took a seat near the door. She glanced around the room with interest, looking towards the billboard where front covers of both Raven magazine and Circle magazine, Raven’s main rival, were pinned to the board.

The door opened and a brunette man in a crisp blue suit entered.

“Who is that?” Sansa whispered. Myranda gave her a slow blink.

“You drink too much. Renly, remember? Our boss?”

“Oh, he looks different today,” Sansa said quickly, trying to cover her blunder.

The young woman who had asked her decision for Oberyn Martell entered the room then as Renly ripped another front cover from the latest copy of Raven.

Sansa opened her mouth in surprise as the woman placed a latte and a croissant in front of her.

“Is there anything else I can get you Miss Stark?” the woman asked, her voice quivering a little at the end.

“Like a favour?” Sansa replied, perking up immediately.

“Um..okay, sure!”

“Okay, I need you to find a Jon Snow, he lived at fourteen Kings Road, Winterfell. Could you get hold of him for me?”

The woman nodded and made a swift retreat. Sansa returned her attention to her boss as he ripped the front off the latest Circle and pinned it up next to their front cover.

“So, will the public want to know details about Margaery Tyrell’s affair last year?” he asked, pointing to Raven’s cover. “Or her latest one?” He pointed to Circle. “This is the seventh month in a row they have beaten our stories!”

“We’re doing everything we can,” Myranda said. “We’re installing new passwords and setting up more ability to see history. Sansa fired Jeyne the other week,”

“Good, I’m sure she was a spy!” Renly declared with a sniff.

“She was a secretary,” Myranda responded in deadpan. Renly rolled his eyes.

“Whatever!” he scoffed, shaking his head. “Point is, we need to think fast because this cannot go on! Sansa, what have you got for me?”

“Huh?” she startled, blinking in shock as every head turned towards her. “Um, I…uh…can I be excused?”

She didn’t wait for a response, practically leaping from her chair and leaving the room. Hurrying down the hall, she glanced at the names until she came to a door with her own name and she opened the door to her office.

A knock made her squeak and she opened the door a crack to peek out. Her assistant was holding a few papers in her hand as she licked her lips nervously.

“I, uh…finalised the plans for Oberyn Martell. And your mother called again and –“

“Mum called?” Sansa gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“You…you said not to tell you,” the woman stammered and Sansa frowned briefly before quickly backtracking.

“I forgot about that,” she lied quickly. “Next time, please let me know.”

“O, okay!” her assistant replied. “And I’ve found your friend’s whereabouts.”

“Jon?!” Sansa squealed, tugging the woman into the room quickly.

“That was her parent’s address so I told them I was phoning from the credit card company and needed his new address. He is living at apartment 3b Castle Street.”

“Oh thank you!” Sansa gushed, hugging the woman in gratitude. “Sorry, your name is…?”

“Beth Miss Stark,” she replied, brows pinching in confusion.

“Okay, I need to go!” Sansa said, already wrenching the door open and running towards the elevators.

“Should I cancel your meetings?” Beth shouted after her.


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa's heart was pounding as she pressed the buzzer labelled '3b' at the address Beth had given her. And, when nobody answered immediately, her desperation got the best of her and she slammed her finger on the button repeatedly.

"Hello?" a deep voice suddenly said over the intercom.

"Jon?" she questioned.

"Yeah?"

Her words gushed out as relief flooded her.

"Oh my god. I am so glad I found you. I don't know what is going on and I just really need to see you!"

The silence seemed to stretch on forever before Jon's voice came up again.

"Sorry, I didnt get any of that. I'll buzz you in!"

As soon as the familiar humming sound filled the air, signalling for her to enter the building, she pushed the door and hurried up the three flights of stairs to apartment 3b. Her fist pounded on the door a couple of times before Jon answered, a chain keeping the door from opening fully.

She gasped as she took him in. He was a grown man, several inches taller and more muscle than he had been at thirteen.

His hair was still as thick as ever though his locks were tied back in a man bun rather than tumbling down to his shoulders the way she remembered. And a neat beard covered his jaw, which Sansa had to admit suited him.

"Jon?" she asked again.

"Yeah," he responded, brow creasing in confusion.

"Oh Jon. I. need your help. The last thing I remember I was thirteen and we had been in the cupboard and -"

"Sansa," he interrupted, his face impassive. "Sansa Stark."

"Yes! Oh Jon it's me!"

The door slammed shut and Sansa blinked in surprise before she heard the slide of the chain and then Jon opened it fully.

"Hey," he said. Sansa, overcome with emotions, threw her arms around him. "Come on in."

She extracted herself from his arms and stepped into his sitting room. The walls were covered with photographs of different things- buildings, flowers and various animals.

"You're a professional photographer?" she guessed, turning to face him.

He shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah, it pays the bills," he replied. "So, what can I do for you Sansa?"

"It's like I said. I woke up this morning and can't remember anything beyond my thirteenth birthday. Can you help me fill in the gaps?"

"Me?" he blurted. Sansa nodded vigoursly but stopped in surprise when Jon slowly shook his head. "I can't do that."

"What? Why?"

"Sansa," he sighed. "I haven't seen you since high school."

"What?" Sansa replied. "But, Jon. You're my best friend!"

"No," Jon said simply, his voice as gentle as if he were about to tell a child their beloved pet had died. 

She supposed it was similar for she felt as though something had died within her at his response. A sudden feeling of clamminess overtook her and her heart started pounding in her chest. Jon rushed forward to take her arm, guiding her onto the sofa.

"Okay, you're okay!" he assured her as she placed her head in her hands.

"Can I get some water?" she asked meekly. Jon made an affirmative noise before his footsteps retreated towards the kitchen. A moment later, a glass was thrust under her nose and she took it gratefully, taking large swigs.

"I need air!" she gasped as she handed him the empty glass.

"Okay, we'll go outside!" Jon responded, hurrying through to the kitchen to put down the glass before helping her to stand.

He led her out of the building towards the little garden area in the middle of the complex where several benches were propped against the stone wall of the plant boxes. Sansa flopped down into the nearest one, feeling overwhelmingly dizzy.

"I'll walk you back to your place," he said after a moment.

"I don't understand," she mumbled, rubbing her forehead and grimacing at the sweat gathered there. "How can we not be friends? How can we not have seen each other since high school? What about Christmas?"

"You didn't go to your parents house the last few years," he replied with a shrug.

"What?" she blurted. "Why not?"

Jon shrugged again. "I told you Sansa. I don't know what has been happening in your life."

Sansa furrowed her brow at the ground. "So, you don't know anything at all about what happened after my party?"

"I...well, there is the yearbook," he said after a moment. "Maybe that will refresh your memory? But I really think we should get you home first."

"I don't know my address," she murmured.

"Good old google," he responded, taking out his phone. "I can get the phone book on here."

***

To her relief, her strange male guest was nowhere in sight as she led Jon inside her apartment.  She wandered down to the bathroom and picked up her abandoned shoe, placing it firmly on the rack before joining Jon in the kitchen area of the living room.

He had the yearbook open on the breakfast counter ready for her but he seemed more interested in taking in her decor. Leaving him to admire her home, she slid into the chair and pulled the book towards her.

"Oh, that's Myranda and I!" she gasped at the first photo. "I was a Falcon?!"

"Yeah, you and Myranda were basically joint leaders," Jon replied as he took in the view from her window.

Sansa flipped the page. The next photo almost made her tumble from the chair in shock. "I went to prom with Harry?!"

"Yeeeeeeeep," Jon drawled, still looking out of the window.

"I can't believe it!" Sansa gushed. "I was a Falcon, I dated Harry and now I'm a big time magazine editor for my favourite magazine! I got everything I ever wanted!"

"Yeah," Jon sighed, running a hand over his beard. "Congratulations Sansa, you got it all."

She turned to look at him with a frown but before she could question him a sudden ringing filled the apartment.

Turning towards the sound, she spotted a mobile lighting up and vibrating against the coffee table.

Jon inclined his head towards it. "I think it is yours."

She picked up the phone with another puzzled look at the unknown number before swiping the answer button.

"Miss Stark?" a crisp voice greeted her.

"Um, yes," she replied hesitantly. "Who is this?"

"I'm calling to confirm your pick up at seven thirty tonight. The limousine will be outside the door then."

"A limo?" Sansa blurted excitedly before clearing her throat and adding with amuch more composed voice. "Yes, I will be ready to take my limo at seven thirty. Might I ask where I am going again?"

"The Raven's annual party Miss Stark."

"Of course. Thank you."

Barely a second past by as she hung up and looked to Jon before she screamed and launched herself onto the sofa.

"I'm going to a party in a limo!" she squealed before collapsing back amongst the cushions with a grin.

Jon smiled softly, the way she remembered.

"Well, you seem back to your old self," he said, heading for the door. Sansa jerked up.

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah I have a few things to do."

"You want to come to the party?" she asked, grinning invitingly. Jon gave a small chuckle and shook his head.

"Nah it's fine. You have fun though."

"C'mon Jon! How often will you be asked to come to Raven's official party? Please!"

He smiled again. "I'll see how my to do list goes."

He opened the door, giving her a little wave as he went to pull it shut behind him. Sansa scrambled put of the chair.

"Wait!" she called, pulling the door open again. Jon blinked in surprise as Sansa raised her brow expectantly. "Goodnight, goodnight!"

Jon gave an amused snort, turning away. "I'll see you around Sansa."

"Jon!" she whined, giving him her best pout.

He sighed in mock annoyance but the curl of his lips told her that he wasn't as annoysd as he was making out.

"Parting is such sweet sorrow that I will say goodnight til it be morrow."


	4. Chapter 4

Despite her lingering confusion about how she had ended up here, like this, Sansa had to admit whatever had happened between thirteen and thirty must have been good if her wardrobe was anything to go by.

She had never seen so many clothes in one space before, not even a mere slice of them would have fitted in her little wardrobe back home. She ran her fingers along the line, smiling at the silky and velvet feels beneath her fingers before she settled on a smokey coloured dress for the evening.

It felt strange to have make-up so easily accessible on her dresser table. She remembered how strict her parents had been about such things but clearly, having her own house and rules had allowed her to rake up quite the collection of beauty products.

As she applied her foundation, she briefly wondered if Jon really would come to the party.

She really hoped that he would!

***

Myranda was leaning against the bar as she entered the main hall area. She slid across to her friend, giving her a friendly poke on the shoulder. Myranda gave her a slow, appreciative look.

"You're obviously feeling much better," she stated simply. Sansa shrugged.

"I've decided being thirty is totally fine," she replied giddily.

Not only did she have loads of nice things, she could also drink alcohol and stay out late! And as though reading her mind, a waitress approached them and asked for their drinks order. Sansa ordered a cosmopolitan, unable to hide her giddiness as she asked the woman if she needed to see her identification. The woman laughed it off and went to get their drinks.

"What is she doing here?" Myranda sneered suddenly and Sansa glanced across the room to where a blonde woman was strutting across the floor towards them with the air of a Queen.

"Ladies," she drawled as she stopped in front of them.

Sansa distracted herself with the waitress' return with their drinks, unwilling to get involved in any drama. Myranda however, seemed to have other ideas.

"Wow, Cersei," she sighed with mock pity while Sansa slurped noisily through her straw. "Things must be drying up at the bank of Dad when you have to crash our party for free food. Please, take some extra on your way out to feed your kids."

"I think it is you who should be worried about feeding yourselves," Cersei replied with a cruel laugh. "Circle is selling twice as well as your trashy magazine."

"You're rude and mean. I don't like you at all," Sansa declared suddenly.

She hadn't wanted to be involved but she was defensive towards Raven and her colleagues, who worked hard on the magazine. Well, she was sure they did anyway, even if she couldn't remember such right now. And she wasn't going to let this woman talk about her magazine like that.

"Luckily, I don't care about being liked," Cersei drawled, looking at her watch. "I have all I need, I think. Approaching nine o clock and people are starting to leave already. Deary me."

She gave them a sarcastic little wave before leaving them. Myranda huffed, scanning the room with annoyance as they watched people head for the exit and Renly running after them, asking them to stay.

"This is a disaster."

"Maybe if there was decent music," Sansa replied after another undignified slurp. "I mean, what even is this?"

She gestured a hand up to the roof in a gesture towards the music that was playing, some techno stuff that didn't seem to have any rhythm or beat. How were people meant to dance to this?"

"You can play whatever you want, I just want to see people moving!" Renly moaned beside her rubbing his face in exasperation.

Sansa handed Myranda her drink as an idea formed in her mind. She would take Renly's advice and play what she wanted. Something with a beat, something people knew and had a fun, well-known dance routine.

As the intro to Thriller played however, she realised that everyone was staring at her. Myranda and Renly were looking at her as though she had suddenly sprouted another head. She bit her lip as the dance floor remained empty and her brain registered that if this was going to work, she would have to make the first move.

_It's not that hard, you were dancing to it just yesterday...seventeen years ago..._

Her nerves were getting the better of her, making her movements too slow and jerky for the beat and the headlights were beaming down on her, making her feel even more distressed. But as she was about to haul Myranda in for support, her eyes caught sight of inky black curls and then Jon appeared at the front of a crowd of people with an almost shy wave.

"Jon!" she squealed, causing half the room to turn towards him.

"Hi," he responded, casting a nervous glance at his admirers. 

Sansa waved her hand frantically. "Come here!"

"No way!" Jon replied with a laugh, taking a step back.

She scowled, running from the floor and grabbing his hand to pull him into the middle of the room with her, ignoring his protests about not knowing the moves anymore. 

"We can nail this," she promised as she took position next to him and waited for the next turn of the dance to start.

At first, Jon only put in a little effort, although he was following the dance moves correctly, just with less enthusiasm than she would have liked. But as she grinned at him in gratitude, he seemed to relax a little and gave a little nod.

"Alright, alright," he sighed in defeat before finally matching her tempo as they jumped and turned. 

People started to filter onto the dance floor, including Myranda and Renly. But Sansa couldn't help but watch Jon beside her and a couple of times she caught him looking at her too. She couldn't explain it, the soft look in his eyes, but she sort of liked it.

But then he suddenly stopped, his hand running through his locks as his face scrunched up as though he were in pain. She paused, tilting her head in concern as he stepped back with a forced smile.

"I need to go," he said over the music, moving backwards again. Sansa reached for him.

"No Jon, don't!" She grabbed his hand, trying to tug him back.

"I'm sorry, I really need to go!" 

He pulled away, giving her another small smile as he walked away. Sansa stared after him, ready to follow him when Renly suddenly grabbed her hand and twirled her around to face him.

"I _adore_ you!"


	5. Chapter 5

It was several days later, as she was out for drinks with Myranda, when she bumped into Jon again.

As she and Myranda left the bar, she spotted him walking on the other side of the road. And, to her surprise, he was with a slim blonde woman. In fact, not only was he walking with her, they were holding hands. The sight made Sansa blink, a strange feeling churning in her gut as she watched them. Without thinking, she raised a hand and called out to him.

He stopped and turned at her voice, his blonde companion throwing a curious gaze over her shoulder. After a moment of hesitation, Jon crossed the road towards her, his hand still laced with the woman's.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Oh my god, it's the knight!" Myranda cackled. Jon smiled with false amusement.

"Oh, hi Myranda, I barely recognised you," he commented lightly, taking a step forward and giving her a look of intense concentration. "Did you get a face lift or something?"

"So, um," Sansa said quickly, before her friends could descend into a public slurring match. She looked to the blonde, thrusting her hand out. "I'm Sansa."

"Val, Jon's fiancee," the woman replied with a smile. "He told me all about his old friend appearing. It was so nice of you to visit."

"Well, I mean. He's...he means a lot to me. Meant a lot to me...back when I was..." she trailed off, aware of everyone staring at her. Jon offered her a comforting smile, that soft look back in his eyes which made her stomach flip.

"Sweet cheeks!"

Sansa squeaked at the voice she recognised as her surprise male guest the day she had woken up in this body. She whirled around, frozen in shock and horror as the man waved at her from the corner, a gabble of girls around him.

"It's that man again," she hissed to Myranda. Her friend snorted.

"Your boyfriend?" she replied in deadpan. Sansa felt the blood rush from her face, her eyes flickering to Jon although she didn't understand why his reaction to the news would bother her so much.

"Hi babe," the man greeted, slinging a hand around her waist and resting his palm on her bottom. Sansa shifted away from his touch, casting another look at Jon.

"So, um...this is..my...my..."

"You're the football player Theon Greyjoy, " Jon intervened, holding his hand out. "I hear you've signed a contract with Winterfell Wolves."

"Yeah man," Theon responded. "I have a lot of respect for the North. I feel I have to give something back to them for all the lovely women it produces." He pulled Sansa in close. "The things this one does is just..."

"Right, well, anyway. This is Jon and his friend, Val!" Sansa interrupted quickly, trying to ignore the way her entire face seemed on fire.

"Fiancee," Val corrected smoothly as she shook Theon's hand.

"Sorry," Sansa said quickly, wrestling out of her apparent boyfriend's grip and stepping next to Myranda. "Well, we were having a night out, so..."

"Nah, she's all yours Theon," Myranda drawled, inclining her head towards the door. "I had my eye on some candy inside!"

"Myranda!" Sansa hissed, turning to her friend with a dropped jaw.

"Go and have fun," Myranda urged, giving her a playful shove.

"Like...games?" Sansa asked slowly. Myranda smirked.

"Sure. If that's your thing."

"Well we should get going too," Jon said, already stepping away with Val. "Nice to see you again Sansa."

***

"I have bad news," Renly sighed as they filtered into the meeting room on Monday morning. "Our sponsers want us to redesign."

"Redesign?" Sansa blurted, casting a nervous glance around the table.

"They can't redesign Raven!" Myranda scoffed.

"It's redesign or the job centre," Renly stated grimly. "So, you have a fortnight to come up with a new approach for the magazine and present it to the sponsers. You're dismissed."

Once free from the boardroom, she sat down at her own desk and pulled out her pink unicorn notebook. But no ideas about how to redesign Raven came to her.

Packing her notebook away again, she headed down to the corridor towards Myranda's office in the hopes that she would have an idea they could work on.

But her hopes were dashed as she heard Myranda's comment.

"So I want to ask you to work with me on this redesign idea.  And I don't want Sansa to know. I've been getting so sick of her lately!"

Feeling the tears burning her eyes, Sansa rushed back to her office. 

She wandered to the window and observed the world outside. She remembered when she had been a child, she and Jon used to make up stories for the people around them.

And then, it felt like a lightbulb went off in her head and she rushed to the door, wrenching it open.

"Beth, I need Jon Snow's phone number!"

***

She grinned as Jon approached the bench she had chosen in the quiet corner of the park. He had brought his camera, just as she had asked and was clutching it securely as he sat down next to her.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet me," she said as she dug through her bag to produce an envelope. "Here."

"What's this?" he asked as he tore it open and pulled out the cheque. "Sansa, this is..."

"Half," she interrupted. "Raven is hiring you for a new project for the next fortnight. That is half and you'll get the other half when we are done."

"I've seen your magazine Sansa. I don't think I'm your style."

Sansa smiled sweetly. "Good."

***

Two days into her planned project, Sansa realised a rather depressing thought.

She had no female friends. She had thought Myranda had been her friend but what she had overheard the other day had made it clear that she had gotten that wrong.

Although it had felt great to see the fake smile fall from Myranda's face when she had said she was doing her own thing and hoped Sansa didn't mind, only for Sansa to tell her sweetly that she was also doing her own thing.

The encounter had made Sansa even more determined to follow through with this idea she had.

She wanted young girls to look at Raven and identify with it. And to do that, they needed everyday women to talk about their successes in all walks of life from careers to meaningful friendships. None of this encouraging bitchiness to seem cool, no tearing women down.

She made an effort with Beth, apologising for being horrible before. She obviously couldn't remember details but she had gathered from her assistant's body language that she had been mean.

"It's admirable," Jon commented during one of their lunch breaks. "To admit you were wrong and to take the first step to make it right."

"Was I horrible to you too?" she blurted. Jon's fork paused in mid air, his face twisting a little. "I can't think why else we would stop being friends."

"You, um... you threw the dolls house at me when you came out of the closet."

Sansa clapped a hand to her mouth in horror. "No!"

"Yep," he said, frowning at his food.

"I'm so sorry Jon!" she gasped, reaching across the table to take his hand. He shrugged.

"It was a long time ago." He grinned then. "I suppose I can go easy on you considering you don't remember the last seventeen years."

"Meany!" she teased, sticking her tongue out. "Anyway, tell me about Val."

"Val?" he responded slowly. "What about her?"

"Does she make your heart skip a beat, do you get butterflies?"

"Ha no. I mean, I love her obviously." He glanced to the side, watching the people at the buffet table. "But I haven't gotten that worked up about a girl since high school, thankfully."

"Must be nice," Sansa sighed.

"You and Theon aren't happy?"

"I don't even know Theon," she reminded him with a pointed look. "But yeah. I told him to leave."

"Sorry," he commented, patting her hand sympathetically. He smiled softly at her. "But I'm sure you will find someone amazing."

She wondered why her brain suddenly decided to think about what it would be like to be with Jon.

***

Over the next two weeks, her confusion over her feelings continued to grow.

She zoned out more often than not when Jon was talking, her eyes fixed on his lips and thinking about how they would feel against her own. Would his beard be nice or too itchy? Would his hair be as smooth as it looked when she ran her fingers through it?

And he wasn't helping things either, sneaking her blue winter roses and sharing lemon drops with her for old times sake. She knew it wasn't deliberately stoking her feelings. How could he when she wasn't ever going to tell him how she felt this way? But she hated him just a little bit for just being her sweet, reliable Jon. Even after all the horrible things she had apparently done in the last few years, he was still standing by her.

But it became too much as they were finishing the photo board for the presentation.

He had been leaning beside her, his hand on the back of her chair as he watched her spreading the pictures out across her desk. She was keeping her eyes firmly on her task, trying to ignore the spicy notes of his aftershave and the muscles on his arms which she couldn't help wondering if they would feel great wrapped around her.

And that had been working, until she happened to look up as she asked him for his opinion and found him looking at her with that damn soft look all over again. Only know she knew what it meant because she was sure she was looking at him the same way.

"Hey, I fancy some lemon drops," she said suddenly, pushing her chair back quickly and dislodging Jon from where he stood.

She didn't wait to see if he was following her but as she reached the elevator, he was jogging to catch up with her.

Trying to act normal around him seemed such an effort. She felt as though if she looked at him long enough, he would know instantly, everything that she wanted him to say and do to her. But even worse, the fact that they could walk in silence and he seemed at ease with her to do so, highlighted to her traitorous brain just how well they fitted together.

As they passed the park, he nudged her shoulder. "I bet I could still jump further than you!"

"Not a chance," she scoffed, nudging him back. "I'm still thirteen, remember?"

"Want to bet on it?" he countered, grabbing her hand before she could protest. "Loser buys dinner tomorrow night!"

"A week's worth of lemon cakes," she corrected as they sat down on the swings.

"Done!" he agreed before kicking off the ground.

"One, two, three!" they chanted together before letting go and leaping from the swings, landing in a giggling heap on the grass.

Jon had landed by her side, close enough that her fingers brushed his arm as she outstretched her hand towards him. His own hand came up, lacing their fingers together as their laughter trailed off.  Their heads turned towards each other at the same time and all rational thought left Sansa's head as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

And for one blissful moment, he returned the kiss, his lips moving beneath hers and his hand cupping her cheek. Until, he jerked backwards as if burned and jumped to his feet, leaving Sansa on the cold ground.

"I...I should go," he mumbled, taking a step away from her with an expression like a dear caught in headlights. He raised his hand in an awkward wave. "I'll, uh...come by after your practice presentation for the cheque!"

"Jon wait!" she called, scrambling to her feet. But Jon was already far ahead and he didn't look back.

***

The death glare that Myranda sent her as she stormed out of the boardroom and Sansa made her way in, made her smile despite the nerves coursing through her. It was clear the practice presentation hadn't gone well for her as she watched her throwing things off desks as she passed. But Sansa decided it was no concern of hers what Myranda was doing and so, she stepped into the room and took her place at the head of the table.

Renly was looking at her as though she could give him the moon and she gave him a nervous smile in return as she looked around the sponsors who had gathered for the presentation. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the covers off her gathered boards, reveling the pictures of the women that she had spoken to and had Jon photograph.

"Who here knows these women?" she asked, holding her arms out to the room. "I don't. They're just ordinary women, with insecurities about their careers, being a good mother, debating whether to have kids at all. We talk about males needing a male role model, a good father. But girls, we're taught to compete with one another, to be better, prettier. And to tear down anyone who could threaten our place. We see these glossy pictures of airbrushed celebrities, who have millions to dispose of, and are told to look up to them. But I want to look up to these women. Real women for our real readers."

Renly grinned at her as Beth started to clap, causing another colleague and then another to follow suit. And the next thing she knew, she was gathered in Renly's arms as he gripped her tight and jumped with her up and down.

"Have I ever told you that I adore you?"


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, she was in her office rehearsing her speech again when Renly stepped inside with an expression as if his first born child had been taken in the night. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile to try and calm him down.

"Don't worry, they'll love it."

Renly shook his head. "The meeting is cancelled."

"Until tomorrow?" she asked in confusion. 

"It's over," Renly sighed, shaking his head again. "Myranda took all your pictures and took them to Circle. She's been working with them the whole time."

"But they're  _our_ pictures! Jon's pictures!" Sansa snapped.

"Apparently, Jon was here yesterday and," He reached into his pocket, handing her a sheet of paper where Jon's signature was clearly on the bottom. "He signed this, a general release form."

Sansa crumpled the paper in her hands, tossing it into the trash before storming out of the room towards Myranda's own office.

"You're unbelievable!" she hissed, slamming the door behind her. Myranda spared her a raised brow as she walked around her office, filling her box.

"Oh, hello. Would you like to be the pot or the kettle today? I think I'd rather be the kettle, although I suppose it doesn't matter because they're both black!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh don't play innocent Sansa!" Myranda snarled, turning to face her at last and taking out a handful of envelopes from her pocket. "I found these in your drawer."

"What were you doing in my room?" Sansa hissed but immediately regretted the outburst as she registered what was in her hand.

There, clear as day, was Circle's logo and her name on the front. Bile rose in her throat as she realised what this meant. It had been her all along. She had turned into an awful, manipulative person and she hated that she couldn't remember how any of this could have happened. Although, she was certain it was the day she became a Falcon. Everything negative in her life seemed to come back to her friendship with Myranda.

"What did you say to Jon?" she asked then.

"Oh, um...let me think." Myranda pressed her finger to her chin in mock thought. "Something about how you were thinking about another direction, that it was fun working with him but you'll not be seeing him again any time soon. Or something like that. I don't know, I don't really care either. He's getting married today anyway so it isn't like he was here to win you back or anything."

"What?"

"Oh, you thought you were being subtle?" Myranda laughed, giving her a fake pout of sympathy before turning back to her box full of her things. "Anyway, I should get going. Off to my new job at Circle while you get to stay here, at the magazine you helped destroy. Ciao, darling!"

Sansa leaned back against the wall in shock, trying to process everything that had just happened. Myranda's words kept running through her head, the mocking tone of them burning through her skull. She wished she could go back to that day in the closet, on her thirteenth birthday. She would tell Jon that she loved him then, she would kiss him before he could kiss her.

She hated herself for even thinking it but she had to tell him the truth. It was the mantra she repeated to herself over and over as she hailed a taxi outside the building and made her way to Jon's house.

But as she stepped out onto the pavement and seeing everyone bustling around, she started to think more rationally and realise she was being selfish coming here to tell him that she was in love with him. Because what did she expect really? That he would call off the wedding?

"Sansa?"

She closed her eyes at his soft voice as she gathered her courage to turn and face him. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

She let her eyes trail over him, admiring his tux before she licked her lips nervously and replied. "I don't know what Myranda said to you but, I can promise you it is likely not true."

"Come here," he said gently, gesturing her into the back door of the house and into the laundry room for privacy. "It doesn't matter what Myranda said, I never trusted her. I thought the magazine was wanting to do the general release. I only found out today when I saw Circle's new promotion on the bus. I'm sorry Sansa."

"I'm sorry!" she insisted, instinctively reaching for his hand. "Jon, I...I know I shouldn't say this now but I have to. I love you. And I wish that you weren't getting married today, unless it was to me."

He closed his eyes slowly, his mouth twisting as though in pain. And then, he gently extracted his hand and opened his eyes to give her the sweetest apologetic look she had ever seen. And it broke her heart, even before he spoke.

"I won't lie to you Sansa. I felt things for you this past fortnight that I never thought I would feel again. But I moved on and I choose Val."

"I'm not the awful person that I was!" she insisted, desperate. Jon smiled gently and she knew it was lost.

"Your dolls house is in there still," he said suddenly, gesturing to the cupboard behind her.

Sansa turned to look behind her before glancing back at him. He nodded slowly and Sansa wrenched the door open, her eyes finding the pink walls of the dolls house on the top shelf, all restored to its proper glory.

"Oh Jon, can I keep it?" she asked, already reaching on her tip toes for it.

"You won't throw it at me right?"

"No," she murmured, her voice already choked with emotion as she clutched the house to her chest. Accepting defeat, she gave him one last smile. "I'm happy that you found someone who loves you like you deserve. And I hope you're happy together forever."

Jon looked down at his shoes. "I've always loved you Sansa."

She turned away before she descended into hysterical sobbing in front of him and half of the wedding guests. She made it as far as a few houses down before setting the house down and sitting down beside it, clutching her knees to her chest.

"I wish I could take it all back," she mumbled, burying her head in her arms. "I only thought about what I wanted, not what I had."

_I wish I could go back._

_I wish I could go back._

_I wish..._

***

The blackness surrounding her disappeared as she reached up and ripped the blindfold away and leapt to her feet. Her hands patted her body everywhere she could reach, a delirious sound of happiness escaping her as she realised she was back in her old body, the night it had all changed. She craned her head to see the dolls house sitting safely on the top shelf, where she had left it all those years ago.

And then, the door opened, flooding the closet with light and she turned to see Jon standing in the doorway with a puzzled expression. Without thinking, she pounced and Jon barely managed to catch her, stumbling backwards as her feet lifted off the ground and her hands clutched around his neck in fear that if she let go, he would disappear again.

"Sansa...what...?"

She pulled away as she placed herself on the floor and pressed a finger to his lips. She gave him a sweet smile. "Shut up and kiss me you idiot!"

Jon didn't need told twice.


End file.
